Converging Parallels
by kylermalloy
Summary: Set before 14x14. Jack's not supposed to have too much sugar. Sam catches him chowing down on some illicit sweets.


It was almost a week before Sam caught him.

He'd moved to the floor behind the counter, so he wouldn't be noticed by anyone just passing by.

Unfortunately, Sam wanted something from the fridge—a late night snack.

When he saw Jack, his brow furrowed in mild confusion. "Hey. What are you—"

Then he caught sight of the bowl on Jack's lap. His head tilted to one side. "Is that…?"

Jack could feel his face burning. He'd been…caught red-handed. He opened his mouth to apologize, to make an excuse, to say _something,_ but suddenly his throat was bone-dry. "I…I'm…"

"Sorry?" Sam finished for him. He raised his eyebrows in a way that made Jack feel very small. "Are you?"

Jack wanted to crawl into one of the cabinets and hide. He felt like he'd let Sam down. Sam was disappointed in him, when he never had been before. Even when Jack had made some serious mistakes, like trusting Lucifer and causing Michael to take over Dean, Sam had never been angry at him. Or disappointed in him. "I'm sorry for…letting you down?"

Sam took the few steps toward Jack, looming over him like a giant. "Can I sit?"

Jack was taken aback. He nodded wordlessly, stunned by how calm Sam still was. Shouldn't he be yelling? Angry? Jack had never been grounded before, not like on TV. He wondered if it was actually like that.

Sam settled himself on the floor next to Jack. He reached over and took the bowl of raw cookie dough from Jack with a half smile dancing on his lips. "This is actually Dean's. He got it for himself, probably so he could do…what we're doing. Let's not tell him it was us, okay?"

The words didn't register in Jack's brain for a moment. "Us?" he repeated, thoroughly confused now.

Sam breathed in once, deep. "Now that you're human, you…you do need to be careful." Jack could see a mischievous glint in his eye that he rarely saw in Sam—he saw it much more often in Dean.

"You mean…"

Sam smiled down at Jack. "Just this once." He reached up, grabbing a spoon off the counter for himself and offering the bowl back to Jack.

Jack took the offering, still bewildered by Sam's continued calm. Sometimes he wondered what it would take to make Sam angry, _really_ angry. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Jack relished the sweet taste of cookie dough, peppered with chocolate chips. He reveled in having Sam beside him, engaging in the same illicit activity he had denounced. It felt good, having Sam as a partner in crime.

Sam exhaled. "You know, we never got a chance to talk about what happened. With your powers."

Jack's insides squirmed with discomfort. He'd been waiting for this. Ever since that night. The night they got Dean back from Michael. The first night he'd used his newfound power.

He could still remember the scene vividly. The monsters, breaking past the bunker door. Overpowering Maggie and her backup. Jack had been the only thing between them and Sam, Dean, and Cas. All three of them incapacitated. Dean with that inhuman smile on his face. Sam unconscious with electrodes taped to his head.

He tried to explain. "I had to do something. You were in trouble."

It wasn't even a conscious decision of Jack's part. He'd thrust his hand out—old force of habit—and had suddenly felt the rush of power flow through him. He'd felt it burning in his eyes, heating up his hands, creating a feverish throbbing in his chest.

Then the monsters were gone. Vanished. Incinerated. Maggie was staring at him, wide-eyed. Sam had taken the revelation quietly, while Cas had berated him later. Jack wasn't sure Dean had even noticed.

Somehow his words now didn't do it justice. Jack was constantly consumed with the desire to protect the people he loved. Just the thought of losing any of them put him in a state of near-panic.

How could he put that into words?

But Sam's smile let Jack know he understood. "I know."

If _anyone _could understand, it was Sam. Lately, Sam had been desperate to save Dean from Michael—and before that, Sam had run himself into the ground trying to save Jack. And Sam was only human.

"But…" Sam trailed off. "Using your powers comes with a cost now. You'll lose a part of your soul every time."

Jack shook his head, shrugging. "Just a little. Not all of it." He couldn't feel a difference from the first time. In fact, he'd begun wondering if it even mattered. Despite Castiel's warnings, Jack knew Cas functioned just fine without a soul.

Sam held his hands out in a placating gesture. "I know it doesn't seem like a lot. And I know you want to help, I get that. But if you keep doing it…" His expression turned pained. "Jack, if you lose your soul…" He seemed unable to finish. He stared straight ahead, anguish etched deep in the lines of his face.

Jack laid a hand on his arm. "Sam?" He'd never seen Sam like this.

"There's no getting it back, Jack." His tone bordered on desperate. Like Jack _had _to know this information. "If you burn away your soul, it's gone forever. Not like—"

"Not like what?" Dread was creeping up Jack's stomach, into his chest.

Sam bit his lip. "There's still so much you don't know. About us. About me."

"What are you talking about?"

The words seemed trapped in Sam's mouth. He chewed them very carefully before saying them. "I…Jack, you know we put Michael—our Michael—and Lucifer in the Cage, right? And…I was there, too."

Jack nodded. He'd heard the story—briefly. "But you got out. Cas…he got you out."

"He did. But there…there was a mistake." Sam's breath shook. His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "My soul got…left in the Cage for a while. And my body…was up here. Soulless."

Ice filled Jack's veins. "What?" he breathed.

"I spent over a year without my soul. Jack, the things I did…" Sam cleared his throat, blinking fiercely. "I wasn't _me _anymore. I didn't care about anything or anyone. I would've killed _Dean _if I thought it would help something."

"Because of your soul." Jack was whispering now too. He was rooted in place, unable to move. Not only had Sam been trapped with Jack's father, with _Lucifer,_ his body and soul had been separated. Jack had never known.

Jack couldn't imagine a Sam who didn't care. Sam cared so much, about everything and everyone.

Would Jack be like that? If he kept using his power?

"Having a soul…" Sam looked at Jack with shining eyes. "It's not just about where you'll go when you die. It's about what makes you…_you._ If you lose that, everything that makes you _Jack_ will be gone."

Jack's eyes burned. His throat tightened. He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. "If I burn off my soul…I won't care about you anymore?"

If imagining a Sam who didn't care was impossible, Jack could not even picture a _world_ where he didn't care about _Sam._ He just couldn't.

"Not in the same way. Without a soul, nothing is the same." Sam shook his head mournfully. "And Jack, you are…so special. I don't ever want you to lose that." One hand wound around Jack's shoulder.

"But I want to _help._" Jack's breath caught in his throat. What was the point of being _special _if Sam was _dead?_ "This is the only way I know how. I—"

"Jack." Sam interrupted him, gentleness running through his voice. "Hey. Look at me." Jack locked eyes with Sam. He took a deep breath, finding his calm in Sam's steadfast gaze.

"I know losing your powers was hard. One of the hardest things you've been through. And I know you want to help us. You want to protect us. Right?"

Jack nodded. "If you die, and there's something I could've done—"

"Then that's not on you. You don't have to be responsible for us. You're still a kid; we're responsible for _you_. We are not worth your soul. Don't throw it away for our sake."

Under Sam's earnest, pleading gaze, Jack could find no argument. He couldn't even look away. Couldn't take his eyes off Sam, this kind human who he looked up to so much, who once trod the same paths Jack was on now.

"I'll be more careful. I promise."

"Okay." Sam let out a sigh, exhaling in what Jack thought might have been relief. He ran one hand through his hair. His spoon lay on the floor next to the bowl of cookie dough, abandoned and forgotten.

Jack reached out and laid a tentative hand on Sam's arm. "Thank you. For telling me." Sam sharing part of his life with Jack gave Jack a warm, tingling sensation. Of being welcome. Of belonging. Of _family._

* * *

**And again, my writing is fueled by frustration that Sam and Jack are being constantly separated on the show. I'm always down to highlight their bond in fic, though! Let me know what you think - comments feed my SOUL. I'm on tumblr too, hop over and say hi!**


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